


RWBY Recreated

by Quality_Chooser



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quality_Chooser/pseuds/Quality_Chooser
Summary: A series of vignettes set in a RWBY AU that attempts to realize the potential of the first three volumes. Relics are out, backstories are rewritten, characters are reworked.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Why Was Cinder Flying the Plane?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, author here. If you're reading this, then you, like me, like RWBY. But perhaps you, like me, feel that the last couple of volumes have been, shall we say, lackluster. I really liked the first three volumes of RWBY, but everything since then has been like the long, slow deflation of a hype balloon. Nothing has come close to the promise the show had at the end of volume 3.
> 
> I love analysis and critique and have already read/watched several attempts to "fix" RWBY. I had my own headcanon "fix", but I have no experience as an author or time to completely rewrite all of RWBY from the bottom up. That's where I came up with the idea for this series. It will be a bunch of short stories, showing events in this AU from the characters' perspectives. If it attracts enough attention maybe I'll do a full blown version, we'll see.

As the smell coming out of the alley hit Cinder’s nostrils, she broke step and gagged. Wide and varied as her experiences with unpleasant scents were after a long and diverse career, there was something about this mixture of stale vomit, rancid piss, and open sewer that managed to throw even her. Mastering herself, she stepped into the alley, past the bits of litter, and walked on at a steady clip, feeling her confidence in Roman Torchwick draining by the second.

She had known the man was gutter trash from the moment he had slipped into his seat across from her at the table, leaned back in his chair and favored her with what he clearly thought was a roguish grin. His clothes had been fine but his cologne had been cheap, an unmistakable sign of a man who wanted badly to be taken seriously but had not mastered how to do it. Still, Roman’s personal faults aside, he had been recommended by Adam, who suffered no fools. Discrete inquiries had confirmed Torchwick’s skill, if not his bearing.

As Cinder walked into the intersection of the alley and one of Vale’s main roads, she saw a man staring at her. She did not break stride but kept her eyes on him until he lost interest and staggered away. Probably just a drunk looking for a woman to ogle, but Cinder had not survived this long by taking chances. Ozpin probably wouldn’t bother with such a transparently incompetent agent, but the Vale Police Force were another matter. Cinder lingered at the corner as she watched the man turn into the bar at the end of the block, but he did not turn to look at her again. On another day Cinder might have been offended, but today she was relieved.

Cinder was a very attractive young woman most days, a fact that she exploited constantly, but today she had taken steps to make herself less conspicuous. Her clothing was baggy and nondescript, making it difficult to gauge her body type. Her makeup concealed rather than enhanced her features and even the small briefcase she swung was old and scuffed, designed to evade notice. Not an inch of her skin was visible except for her face, despite the fact that the night was warm, and her hood covered her shiny black hair.

As she walked on, she glanced at the address of the pawn shop she passed. 1932, which meant that she was almost at the warehouse. Yes, now that she looked she could see it looming over the liquor store. Torchwick had bought the warehouse and the vacant lot adjacent to it through such a tangled web of shell companies that it had taken her nearly a week to sort out, and she had known what to look for. It had probably doubled the price he had paid for the properties but Cinder could not deny that it had been money well spent.

Coming up to the door, Cinder reached into her briefcase and pulled out her mask, securing it snugly over her face. The mask, with its voice modulation, combined with her clothes should make it impossible for anyone to identify her if something went wrong tonight. It wasn’t that she distrusted Torchwick exactly, gutter trash he might be but Adam had vouched for his discretion. It was rather that he had said that he would be hiring muscle for this operation and Cinder had no intention of trusting hired muscle with anything so vital as her identity. She had asked to see Roman in action before sealing the deal with him, yes, but on her terms.

Cinder knocked gently on the door. A few seconds later a hidden slot opened, revealing a set of orange sunglasses as someone on the inside looked her over. “You the one the boss is waiting for?” came a harsh voice from inside. Cinder rolled her eyes as she nodded. Obviously she would have answered yes either way. The slot closed and after the quick grinding of a lock the door opened.

Cinder pushed past the man at the door and strode into the open space of the warehouse. Ignoring the gaggle of men standing around the center, Cinder’s eyes were drawn to the large airship parked in the rear. A Valesian Bullet. Impressive. The Bullet was Vale’s answer to the Atlesian _Scimitar_ -class dropship. Larger and cruder, the Bullet had one crucial advantage, it ran almost silently, permitting stealth drops of special huntsmen units. How Roman had acquired one Cinder had no idea, but she could not deny its usefulness as a get-away vehicle.

As Cinder approached the group of men she shifted her attention back to them, or more particularly to the man in the white suit standing in the center, leaning on a black cane. Roman looked up as she approached, a frown creasing his brow as he took in her appearance. “That you darling?” he ventured, squinting at Cinder’s mask.

Cinder felt a twitch of anger as he casually revealed her gender to the entire room, invalidating one of the reasons for the voice changer. She forced her voice to be calm as she responded, “Yes.” Her words came out flat and mechanical. “Are we ready to go?”

“Hold your horses, darling. You know we never really ironed out exactly what your part in this little venture of mine was going to be. You wanted to come along and I respect that, but I prefer all members of my team to pull their weight. So, what can you do?” Torchwick finished, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Cinder, meanwhile was looking around. When she had met Torchwick he had been attended to by a girl… a girl who was not present in the warehouse. “Where is she?”

Torchwick frowned, “Do you mean Neo?”

“Yes.”

“She’s sick. Caught some kind of bad stomach flu.”

“Then I will play her role. What were you going to have her do?”

Torchwick eyed Cinder for a moment. “Can you fly that?” he gestured at the Bullet.

“I can fly anything,” Cinder said, with more confidence than she felt. Her flying lessons had been years ago and she had never trained on military hardware. Still there was no point in confiding that to Torchwick and she was sure that she could work it out.

Torchwick eyed her for a moment, clearly hashing it out in his head before he gave a stiff nod. “Alright,” he exclaimed, “so I guess now’s a good time to go over the plan.”

Looking around at the assembled men, Torchwick addressed his crew, “So I have it on good authority that most of the VPD is going to be on the west side tonight, some kind of stakeout. The place we’re going to hit is on the north, the Dusk to Dawn Shop.”

One of the goons whistled. Cinder had no idea what the Dawn to Dusk was, but if it got this kind of reaction it had to be a major target. Roman had apparently remembered that that she was after Dust and decided to plan his trial excursion accordingly.

“No huntsmen reported active in the area and we’ll be hitting the store five minutes before closing. I’ll take register, Finn you’re on comms. I don’t want any patrons raising the alarm. The actual alarm’s been taken care of, Neo sabotaged it last week before she got sick. Take these,” he passed out cylindrical vials to the goons, “they’ll hold the Dust in the dispensers. Shopkeep is an older man, we’re not expecting a struggle. You,” he turned to Cinder, “keep the engine warm. We should be in and out in no more than ten minutes, faster than anyone can respond. Anybody have any questions?”

“Yeah,” said one of the mooks, “what about shares?”

“That’s all been settled up with Junior. I don’t pay bonuses under the table; he’s getting 40% and he’ll pay you from that.” There was a bit of scowling at that but no one objected. Roman glanced at his watch. “OK, we’re go in ten minutes. Everyone in the Bullet.”

Cinder was first to reach the airship and quickly dropped into her assigned place in the pilot’s chair. Much to her annoyance, Torchwick settled himself into the copilot’s seat next to her, stowing his cane beneath his seat. “Didn’t expect you to come here with all _that_ ,” he gestured to Cinder’s mask, “on.”

“I prefer to keep things as anonymous as possible, especially when there are so many factors at play that are beyond my control,” Cinder said, checking around the cockpit. So far, so good, the various gauges and instruments were in a pretty easy to understand configuration and the controls looked simple enough.

Torchwick looked puzzled for a moment before letting out a short laugh, “Oh, you mean the boys? I wouldn’t worry about them. They’re just dumb muscle. Well, not so dumb that they don’t know how to keep a secret but that’s beside the point-“

“I do not like leaving _anything_ up to chance,” Cinder cut in, coldly. Torchwick looked wounded for a moment and silence fell. Eventually he spoke up.

“You know I asked around a bit about you, mystery lady. No one apart from Adam had heard of you. You act all confident and cool but you are jumpy as hell.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” Torchwick sighed, “but I do usually like to know what kind of trouble I am getting myself into. Adam was rather vague about it aside from the whole rich beyond your wildest dreams thing. Honestly if it wasn’t for his recommendation, I doubt we’d be sitting here tonight. The man may be an animal but we go back and he’s always been solid. What I don’t get is how you know him.” Torchwick’s tone was light but he was definitely eying her now, a man trying to figure something out.

“I told you, you’ll know what you need to know when you need to know it. Certainly not before I’ve decided you’re worth working with in the first place. As for how I know Adam, the same way you do. It’s a marriage of convenience.”

Torchwick’s eyes flashed, “So is he selling merch to you or buying info?”

“Our dealings are none of your business Roman. I wouldn’t pry. Besides, aren’t we getting close to launch?”

Torchwick consulted his watch, “Yes we are. Get her airborne and I’ll open the side.”

Mentally crossing her fingers, Cinder pressed a large green button. The engines came to life, not with the satisfying roar she was used to, but with a gentle whine that surprised her. Some of that surprise must have come out in her bearing because Torchwick grinned and offered, “Yeah, quiet as a kitten. Great piece of work, isn’t she?”

“Indeed. I wonder how it is that a mere sneak thief managed to get his hands on hardware like this.”

Torchwick adjusted his hat, “Hey I get to be mysterious too. Maybe if you ever decide to trust me a little more, I can tell you the thrilling tale of the best damn thief in Remnant.” He clicked a remote and the wall of the warehouse slid silently open. “Shall we?”

Cinder pulled back on the stick and the Bullet rose quietly into the air. A press of a button and the airship began to lumber forward, picking up speed. It handled a bit like a boat but Cinder guessed that that was the price of stealth. Roman rattled off directions as Cinder navigated the streets of Vale. A few people looked up at the faint sound or the slight breeze, but Cinder saw no signs of recognition. Around fifteen minutes later Roman looked up from his Scroll and said, “We’re there. Put us down on that building,” he gestured, “it can hold our weight.”

Cinder obeyed and Roman unbuckled himself, pulled out his cane, and moved back into the hold of the Bullet. Cinder turned in her seat and heard him shout back at her, “Keep the engine running just in case. We won’t be long.” With that he slapped a button, causing the side of the Bullet to open. He and his men jumped off onto the roof.

Cinder sat in her seat for a few seconds, realizing all too late that if she was just keeping the engine warm that she would miss seeing Roman in action. She compromised by leaving the engine running and moving out onto the rooftop. If anything happened, she would only be a five second run away from the controls. She got to the edge of the roof just as Torchwick finished making his way down the fire escape. He quickly organized his goons and strolled, bold as brass, into the Dust to Dawn. Cinder squinted down at the shop but couldn’t see much through the glare of the streetlights on the glass. Torchwick certainly had picked a big enough Dust shop to rob for his demonstration, Cinder thought. Time passed.

Then, suddenly, one of the goons smashed, scratch that, was _smashed_ through one of the big windows of the shop, apparently tackled by a red blur. The man skidded a few feet on the pavement and the blur resolved itself into a small woman, wearing a black outfit and a red cape, or was it a hood? The girl stood up, reached behind her, and pulled out a red, metallic contraption that shifted itself into a scythe. Cinder swore under her breath, a huntress.

A few seconds later more of the goons came running out of the shop, some brandishing pistols, others machetes. They swung and shot at the small huntress, but she dodged and weaved, effortlessly parrying them and striking back with big sweeps of her scythe. Cinder’s eyes narrowed. She was a bit of a connoisseur of fighting styles and she could tell that the girl wasn’t very experienced. Her swings were too wide, her focus too narrow. A young huntress, then, probably inexperienced. Not that it mattered much, as mook after mook went flying, unable to keep up.

Then Cinder saw Roman. He was moving to escape, carrying a huge case in one hand and one of the vials in the other, along with his cane. He moved pretty well, Cinder thought, always keeping one of the goons between himself and the huntress, letting her expend her efforts on minions, dodging one man that was thrown in his direction. Once he had circled around the now ending melee, he turned tail and ran toward the fire escape. As he ran, he looked up, spotted Cinder, and threw the metal case with more strength than Cinder thought he possessed. She caught it easily and threw it into the hold of the Bullet. Now Roman was at the fire escape, his hand outstretched to grab hold and pull himself up.

But the huntress had finished the goons. She launched herself at Torchwick, turning into a red blob of speed as she went. Torchwick saw her coming and narrowly ducked under the scythe swing. Then, to Cinder’s surprise, she saw his fist come up and collide with the onrushing huntress’s midriff, pushing her back several feet with a grunt of pain. She landed decently and immediately moved back to the attack, trying to prevent Torchwick from reaching the ladder. Again Cinder was surprised, and a little impressed, to see Roman dodge the wide swing, jump, grab hold of the side of the ladder with one hand, and pull himself upward. He made it to the landing before the huntress could react, and began to scramble the rest of the way up.

Cinder moved quickly. In four seconds she was back in the pilot’s seat, and a few seconds later the Bullet was airborne and moving to pick up Torchwick, who crested the peak of the fire escape a few seconds later. As he ran a familiar red blob shot up onto the roof, revealing the small huntress, who pointed her scythe at Roman. A shot rang out and Roman stumbled, clearly having just blocked a bullet with his aura. He straightened and turned as a second shot rang out, this one missing Roman and tinging off the rooftop.

Roman yelled at the huntress, “End of the line Red!” and threw the vial at her. As she moved to dodge the projectile, Roman’s other hand, holding his cane, came up. With a roar a ball of light spat from the end of the cane, smashing into the vial of Dust, and exploding. A gout of flame expanded into being, consuming the huntress, or at least that is what Cinder expected. Instead, at the last moment, a figure in purple jumped out from nowhere, brandishing an object. The fire was forced back as if pushed. The new figure landed between the huntress and Roman, and Cinder recognized her instantly, Glinda Goodwitch, Ozpin’s right hand. She swore under her breath.

Roman, perhaps recognizing Goodwitch too, was already booking it into the Bullet. Goodwitch moved too, twirling her riding crop as a nearby pipe broke free from its ventilation unit and blasted toward the Bullet, catching it in the side. The Bullet spun dangerously as Roman made his way into the cockpit, his eyes wide. “We’ve got a huntress!” he blurted out unnecessarily as Cinder struggled with the controls, managing to stop the spin.

Cinder proceeded to jump up from her seat as Roman grabbed the stick from the copilot’s chair and ran down into the hold. As she arrived, she felt the Bullet shudder. A quick look outside revealed the cause, Goodwitch had manifested and thrown a number of icy spikes into the Bullet, some penetrating the armor while others had bounced off. Grimacing, Cinder called on her magic, and a torrent of flame shot forth from her hand. Goodwitch raised her crop and the flames diverted to either side of her, thwarted by her telekinesis.

Cursing, Cinder reached for a new spell, ignoring the shots ringing out as the original huntress opened fire again. A rune appeared on the ground under Goodwitch’s feet and she barely managed to cartwheel out of the way before a pillar of fire split the night, shattering the roof. But then Goodwitch waved her crop and the loose material rose into the air and began to pelt the Bullet. Cinder called up a blast of air, but Goodwitch moved the pieces to the side, trying to get them in front of the Bullet and keep it from escaping.

Cinder wracked her brains as she moved her hand to deflect a shot from the huntress when inspiration struck her. Casting her flame pillar spell again, this time she targeted the huntress. As she had hoped the huntress, in the act of reloading her scythe-gun, didn’t notice—but Glinda did. As Glinda snapped her crop out, pulling the huntress out of the flames a split second before they consumed her, the bits of roof fell to earth. Goodwitch vanished into the background as Roman punched the throttle. Cinder breathed a sigh of relief; they had gotten away.

Roman was quiet all the way back to the warehouse. After he had successfully landed the Bullet, he seemed to come out of a reverie and quickly closed the side with his remote. He looked at Cinder with an expression half apprehensive, half sheepish. Cinder spoke first, “Well, that was a bit more exciting than I was anticipating.”

Roman nodded. “Ah… well… Yeah. Thanks for the assist,” he finished lamely.

“What happened?”

“That girl, the little miss with the red hood, she was already in the store. Bruno went to… take care of her and the little freak body-checked him out the window.”

“It happens. You can’t be expected to keep track of all the huntresses in Vale.”

Roman frowned, “She’s way too young to be a huntress. Couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Geez, they start young nowadays.” He looked up, “I can understand if you consider this a failure.”

Cinder regarded him for a moment, then she moved to the back of the Bullet. She picked up the case that had been sliding around in the back and opened it. Inside were scores of Dust crystals, high quality crystals, pure crystals. Torchwick had gotten up from his seat and moved next to her.

“I wouldn’t say this was a failure. These crystals are worth a lot of lien, they’re probably the finest items in the store. True, you didn’t get the raw Dust or the rounds, but you reacted quickly and got away with the most valuable items. You performed well against our young friend. I think we can do business together.” She held out her gloved hand.

Roman looked surprised but gratified as he took it. Then his eyes narrowed, “What about Goodwitch. I’m pretty sure that was Goodwitch back there, right?”

“Definitely. Unless there is some other telekinesis-using, crop-wielding huntress that I am unaware of.”  
Roman looked uneasy. “Look, I have to admit, if you hadn’t been there… How did you manage to fight her off? I was flying, I didn’t see.”

Cinder shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. All I had to do was break her concentration for the split second you needed to escape. You’ll need to lay low a week or two, we’ll see if Goodwitch picks up your scent.”  
“And if she does?”  
“I’ll handle it. You’re rolling with me now Roman. Expect perhaps a bit more danger than you are used to. I’ll contact you later with more.”

Roman nodded thoughtfully. As Cinder began to make her way to the door to the warehouse a question followed her, “Just… who are you?”

Cinder paused, considering. Roman Torchwick had just demonstrated a good deal of resourcefulness. He was clever, thought fast on his feet. But did she trust him… She made up her mind.

“My name is Cinder. And I have big plans for you, Roman. All I ask is a little… cooperation.”


	2. Why Weren't Ren and Nora at Ozpin's Speech?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, author here. If you're reading this, then you, like me, like RWBY. But perhaps you, like me, feel that the last couple of volumes have been, shall we say, lackluster. I really liked the first three volumes of RWBY, but everything since then has been like the long, slow deflation of a hype balloon. Nothing has come close to the promise the show had at the end of volume 3.
> 
> I love analysis and critique and have already read/watched several attempts to "fix" RWBY. I had my own headcanon "fix", but I have no experience as an author or time to completely rewrite all of RWBY from the bottom up. That's where I came up with the idea for this series. It will be a bunch of short stories, showing events in this AU from the characters' perspectives. If it attracts enough attention maybe I'll do a full blown version, we'll see.

Lie Ren shaded his face with his hand for a few seconds as he stepped off the airship, his vision adjusting to the bright sunlight. Next to him Nora bounced cheerfully as she made her way through the crowd. She stopped for a moment, turning back to Ren, beaming. Ren could feel the corners of his mouth twitch at her excitement, he was excited too. Who would have thought two little orphans, alone in the world, would eventually be standing here, here at Beacon Academy, the premier Huntsmen training school in the world?

Ren still felt a sense of unreality from time to time. For close to seven years he and Nora had lived together in the Orphanage, planning their escape, the day they would go out into the world and make it their oyster. To think that the day had finally come, that they were finally here. Nora grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the line forming to grab suitcases from the hold of the airship.

“You know I still can’t believe we’re here! This is it, Ren, the chance we’ve been waiting for, dreaming for! We’re gonna take this place by storm, they’ll never know what hit ‘em, we’ll be the best that there’s ever been! Do you think we’ll get teamed together, I hope we do, I know we will. Make sure you do everything you can and I’ll do it too, they’ve gotta let us work together after all we’ve been through. Do you have any idea how they pair people up because I kept trying to find out but most people were saying it was secret or random or whatever and it’s been driving me crazy and making me nervous and everything but I’m sure it won’t be a problem or anything it’s not like they’ll make people stay together if things don’t work out so all we have to do is make them see that if we’re not together that things won’t work out. Oh, when I say together I don’t mean _together_ together but you know what I mean Ren.”

Ren listened to the stream of Nora’s consciousness as he picked up his duffel bag from among the pile of luggage. Someone had a multi-piece set of matched white luggage which looked like it would be a pain to try to drag to a… wherever they were supposed to sleep. “I do Nora.”

“Of course you do, Ren, we’re so in synch…” Ren listened to Nora buzz away as they proceeded down the field, following the crowd of students. Taking out their itinerary from his pocket, Ren scanned the page. First up they were supposed to drop their weapons in a locker, then their personal items in a hall, followed by a guided tour by an upperclassman. Ren kept following the crowd as Nora kept speaking, only to be stopped as a blond girl approached Nora.

“Hey, you sure sound happy,” the girl held her hand out to Nora, “Name’s Yang, nice to meet you.”

Looking behind Yang, Ren saw a short, black-haired girl in a red hood glaring daggers at her before turning around and walking off in a huff. Nora took the offered hand and shook it vigorously, proclaiming, “Hey Yang, my name’s Nora! Nora Valkyrie!”

Sighing, Ren peeled Nora off Yang’s hand before offering his own, “Lie Ren.” The blonde took it after a second of hesitation. “So where are you two from?”  
“Mistral,” jumped in Nora.

“Where from in Mistral,” asked Yang.

“Kusinashi,” answered Nora, “We weren’t born there but that’s where the… combat school we went to was and so that’s where we’re from.”

“Cool,” said Yang, “I’m from Patch, myself.”

“Where’s that?” asked Nora.

“It’s the island just west of here. Home to Signal Academy, the best pre-Huntsmen school around.”

“No way, Kirasukuru is the best.” For a moment Yang and Nora glared at each other before Yang laughed.

“Have it your way. I guess we all think where we’re from is the best. We’d probably better start moving, wouldn’t want to get left behind.”

Ren looked around. The crowd was indeed thinning out. As they walked into the building at the far end of the landing field Ren paused for a second. He thought he had just heard an explosion.

Deciding that his ears must be playing tricks on him, he focused back in on the conversation now flourishing between Yang and Nora. “-know how to swim? I would if I lived on island.” Or at least the conversation flourishing between Nora and herself as Yang struggled to get a word in edgewise.

“It’s a big island and it’s not like I live on the coast but yeah, I know how to swim. Did you hear about the celebrity who’s part of our class this year?”  
“No I didn’t,” said Nora, perking up. “Who?”  
“Pyrrha Nikos,” said Yang, “The invincible girl herself is gonna be one of our classmates. I’m looking forward to getting a piece of her...” Yang came to a stop as she read the look on Nora’s face.

Nora was uncharacteristically subdued as she, Ren, and Yang picked out weapon lockers. As she punched in a personalized code into the locker, Yang looked back out over at Ren and Nora and said, “Well it’s been fun to meet you. I’m gonna go say hi to some other people but maybe we can meet up at dinner?” Then, not waiting for a reply, the blonde disappeared into the crowd.

Ren looked at Nora, who was still looking upset. Recognizing that, for once, Nora wasn’t going to take the initiative, Ren asked, “What’s wrong?”

Nora looked up. “Oh, nothing,” she said with a brittle smile. “Just the invincible girl. You know. Nothing to worry about.”

Then all of a sudden she was up in Ren’s face, talking quickly but quietly, “But what if she overshadows everything we do here. How can we hope to compete with her if she is as strong as everyone says she is and even stronger than the last time we fought, we only have three years to impress everyone so that everyone will want to hire us when we graduate and what if no one looks at us but only at Nikos and we don’t get a job and starve penniless on the streets!” Nora finished, breathing hard, a wild look in her eyes.

Ren touched her shoulder, using his Semblance to transfer some of his calm into her and to take some of her anxiety out of her. “Everything will be fine. Calm down.”

Nora’s breathing slowed; her frantic look slid off her face as something approaching serenity replaced it. “Thanks Ren, I needed that. But what are we going to do? The last time I fought Nikos I lost.”

“You were fourteen. You’ve gotten stronger.”

“But what if she has too? She has to have, to be such a big deal today.”

“We’re classmates. Not competitors. We can both be great.”

Nora regarded him for a moment then nodded and smiled, “Yeah. Yeah, we can both do great. But I still want a rematch with little miss perfect, count on that.”

As Nora walked away with a new bounce in her step Ren almost smiled. But then he thought back. It had been a while since Nora had had an anxiety attack that strong, so strong that Ren had had to use his Semblance to help her. He still felt slightly guilty every time he did. Regardless of how often Nora said that she liked it, how she said it helped her function, Ren still felt weird about reaching inside someone else and tampering with their emotions. He would never do it to anyone without their consent, but even with Nora saying it was ok… He sometimes felt like he was enabling Nora, preventing her somehow from learning to deal with her anxiety and hyperactivity on her own. But the simple truth was that Nora did have a problem, a real problem. She could swing quickly from bouts of manic energy to paralyzing fear, and she often told him that he was the only reason she had done as well in school as she had. He liked that. He liked that she depended on him… but he worried about her sometimes.

Shaking his worries, Ren went with Nora to the hall where everyone would be sleeping the first night before full initiation the next day. They dropped off their stuff before moving for the groups that were heading out on tour. Their guide was a brown-haired girl wearing a beret and aviator shades. As she walked them out of the hall she called out, “So, the place we just left is Coral Hall, the biggest one on campus. Most of your general classes—history, Grimology—will be here. Coming up on the left is the colosseum, that’s where sparring happens.”

As they passed the building their tour guide (Coco, Ren thought her name was) glanced up and down the street. Seeing that the others groups were heading off their own ways she turned around and addressed the group, “Right, so here we have a choice. You can keep going on the guided tour of all the dumb places you’re going to spend forever in and probably already saw when you came here to take your entrance exams… _or_ I could show you the best spots in town. Any objections?”

The fellow first years glanced at each other, a little confused and surprised but also curious. Coco took in their expressions and said, “Right, keep your heads down and double time it. We don’t want to get caught.” With that she began walking very briskly down the path. A few minutes later the whole group was off campus. Nora looked both impressed at Coco’s daring and excited to get a chance to see the city. As Coco led the group across the street she walked up to a trio, two boys and a Faunus girl. The girl looked a little cross at Coco but the guys were grinning.

“Really Coco? You actually went and brought the first years? There’ll be hell to pay when Glinda finds out.” The bunny-eared girl said.

“Oh, lighten up Velvet,” said Coco, tossing her hair, “We’ve got time to kill and I certainly wasn’t going to miss today just because Glinda was desperate for ‘volunteers’,” she finished, making air-quotes.

“Right, group,” she addressed her charges, “we’re going to start with the more fashionable side of town, so you guys can, I dunno, hang back or something. Or you could learn to have a sense of style. Couldn’t hurt.” With that she, Velvet, and the two guys set off down the street. Nora glanced at Ren who shrugged. The two set off in their wake, as the rest of the group followed behind.

For the next three hours they followed Coco as she wound her way through high end stores. Ren quickly realized that today was the day some of the newest fashions were being unveiled. To her credit, Coco did keep up a running commentary and on more than just clothes. She pointed out restaurants that were good but cheap, places to get aspirin at three o’clock in the morning, and some bars and clubs that stayed open late. Throughout, her male companions kept quiet and Velvet remained subdued, but throwing disapproving glances every few minutes. As Ren began to wonder about the lunch that they were surely missing, Coco turned to her entourage.

“Right, so we’re getting in pretty close on lunchtime. Does anyone not have money for some food?”

Ren raised his hand. Nora hesitated for a moment before raising hers as well. Theirs were the only raised hands in the group. “Right,” said Coco, “we’ll break for lunch then. Meet back here,” she pointed to a large clock outside a department store, “at two. You two,” she gestured to Ren and Nora, “come with me.”

Ren and Nora glanced at each other before following Coco, Velvet, and their friends. Coco steered them towards a fancy bistro. The hostess greeted Coco with a familiar smile, and brought them to a table. Coco handed a menu to Nora.

“Order anything you like. I’m buying this time, since it’s technically my fault you two are missing your lunch at the school. Not like you’re actually missing anything, though. The cafeteria food is totally disgusting.” Nora grabbed the menu and began to peruse it excitedly. Ren looked up at Coco and cocked his eyebrow.

“What? You got a problem with how I’ve been doing this?”

“No.”

“Then what?” Ren glanced over at her companions.

“Oh them. They’re Yatsuhasi, Fox, and Velvet.” Coco said, pointing at each in turn. The two boys waved at Ren, but Velvet only scowled. “So, what’s your name?”

“Ren.”

“Strong, silent type, aren’tca?” Ren shrugged. “And your girlfriend is…?”

Nora looked up, “Oh we’re not together. We’re just friends. My name is Nora. Can we get an appetizer? I’ve never had calamari before or stuffed mushrooms. What do they stuff them with anyways? Or mozzarella sticks would be good too. I like cheese. But it’s ok if we can’t get anything I understand.”

The table was silent for a second after that. Coco looked blindsided and Velvet smiled for the first time. The two boys also looked amused. The larger one, Yatsuhashi, spoke, “Guess we got a motormouth here. She do the talking for you?” His voice was slow and deep and there was a bit too much understanding in his eyes. Ren realized that for as many stores as Coco had dragged her tour group to, neither Fox or Yatsuhashi had done much more than carry Coco’s bags. 

Coco waved her hand, “It’s fine. We can get some calamari.” A waitress came over. Coco ordered a quiche and the calamari, Fox some baked chicken, Yatsuhasi some steak, and Velvet something called “ratatooey”. Ren eyed his menu for a moment, parsing all the words he didn’t know, before deciding he would probably be safe with some salmon. He glanced at Nora. She had put her menu down and, with a confident air, said to the waitress, “I want a hamburger. Medium rare, extra onions.”

Coco choked on her glass of water. Velvet, Yatsuhashi, and Fox just stared at Nora, who was sitting there with a triumphant expression, as if she had just solved some big mystery. The waitress froze for a moment, before writing something (it couldn’t be her order, Ren thought) down and walking away. Ren sighed, no doubt he would have to speak to the manager or something. Coco recovered from her coughing fit and stared at Nora as if not sure she was real.

“Really? A whole menu full of the finest food on Remnant and you pick a hamburger? They don’t even serve hamburgers here.”

Nora appeared unconcerned. Ren looked around, sure he would soon see their waitress return and ask Nora for a different order, but she didn’t. Well, she did return with the calamari, whose weird rubbery texture made Ren a little queasy but infinitely amused Nora. The conversation around the table centered around the third-years, who Ren learned were named Team CFVY, which for some ungodly reason was pronounced “coffee”. They seemed fairly nice to Ren, even if Coco was a bit of a snob and Yatsuhashi seemed a little… simple. As time passed, Velvet seemed to forget that she was supposed to be disappointed in Coco and she began to laugh and smile with the rest of them.

Their food took an unusually long time to prepare, or at least Ren thought so, and when it came, it came with a surprise. Coco’s face was a picture of stunned disbelief as a hamburger was placed in front of Nora. “How…?” the question died on her lips. It was a beautiful looking hamburger, arranged with the same style and poise as the rest of their food.

Nora raised her hamburger from her plate and chowed down. She eagerly proclaimed it the third best hamburger she had ever had, much to the amusement of Fox and the chagrin of Coco. Ren’s salmon was fine and the vegetables were much better than anything he had had since his parents died. Nora was eying the dessert menu when Velvet checked her watch and found they only had six minutes to make it to the meet-up spot. Coco and company escorted the tour group back to the campus, only to find Glinda Goodwitch waiting for them at the archway entrance.

Coco broke step, suddenly looking sick. Velvet gave her an “I-told-you-so” glance as Goodwitch began walking briskly toward the group. It was amazing how much an irate woman could look like a charging Ursa.

“Ms. Adel it is close to three o’clock. _Explain yourself!_ ”

Coco swallowed, steeling herself. “I thought it would be better to give them a look at Vale, see the sights…” Her voice trailed off as Goodwitch glared at her. Velvet smiled behind her back.

“And Ms. Scarletina, Mr. Daichi, Mr. Alistair? What were you doing?” The smirk vanished from Velvet’s face as she, Fox, and Yatsuhashi quailed under that same furious stare.

Goodwitch let the silence spiral horribly for a moment before turning back and addressing Coco. “I am _very_ disappointed in you Ms. Adel. I will be discussing appropriate disciplinary measures with Professor Ozpin. Until then consider yourself suspended.” Coco looked for a moment like she was going to argue, but hung her head apologetically.

“As for the rest of you, I am disappointed in you as well,” Goodwitch said, her steely gaze falling on each first-year in turn. “I had hoped that future guardians of peace would exercise better judgment. Professor Ozpin’s speech is over, so I will escort you to registration. Follow me.” With that she swept back up along the street. The first-years hastened to follow. Ren glanced at Nora, who seemed a little shaken by the tongue-lashing but otherwise alright.

Compared to their earlier antics, registration was boring. First-years, it turned out, got very little freedom as to what classes to take. History with Professor Oobleck, Grimology with Professor Port, Weapon Handling with Professor Mulberry, and combat training with Professor Goodwitch were all mandatory, leaving only one free slot. Ren seriously considered Stealth training but ultimately went with Plant Science with Professor Peach. Nora would obviously insist on taking the same classes he did and stealth was not Nora’s strong suit.

After registration came book-buying. Fortunately for Ren and Nora acceptance had come with scholarship money that would enable them to buy everything they would need for the next three years. _Good thing too_ thought Ren _we’d be seriously in debt if we had to pay for all of this ourselves_. As Beacon was an elite school, they could afford to charge prospective Huntsmen an arm and a leg for their education.

After stowing their books and materials it was time for dinner. Ren and Nora picked a table in the corner, away from the others, though that didn’t stop the blonde from earlier—Yang—from coming by.

“Didn’t see you at the speech today,” she said, dropping unceremoniously into the empty chair next to Ren. “You one of the people that that guide ran off with?”

“Yeah, it was fun. We got to see Vale, and the good stores, and the clubs, and I ate a hamburger,” Nora proclaimed happily.

“Clubs sound good,” said Yang, “I’d stay out of the Just Rite, though, tough crowd.”

Ren raised his eyebrow at her. “What, I’ve been here before. I get around.”

“Who was the girl you were with earlier?” asked Ren.

“You mean Ruby?” Yang asked. Looking around Ren could see the short, dark-haired girl in the red hood sitting two tables over, glaring at Yang. Now that Ren looked closer, he could see a streak of red in her hair, doubtlessly dye.

Yang followed his eyes over. “Yep, that’s her. She’s my little sister. Got accepted to Beacon a whole two years early. Big surprise for me. But she keeps wanting to hang around…”

Nora frowned as she looked back and forth between Yang and Ruby, “She doesn’t look like you.”

“Half-sister.”

Nora’s eyes narrowed, “I didn’t know Beacon let students in early.”

“Yeah, well neither did I. She helped thwart this Dust robbery when we were in town for my exams and the headmaster just asked her if she wanted to come.”

Nora turned quickly to Ren, “Ooh, so that’s how we get ahead. Just got to find some bad guys and pound their heads in and bam, Ozpin will notice us.”

Yang blushed, “Well… I think it matters whose heads you bust…”

Ren focused on Yang, “Is that a story?”

Yang waved his question away, “It doesn’t matter, not important. Hey, did you see Nikos? She’s right over there.” Yang pointed at a girl with scarlet hair sitting alone at a table in the middle of the room. As Ren watched a guy with brown hair walked up to her and said something. She replied and what appeared to be an awkward silence ensued. The guy eventually walked on, leaving Nikos looking a little disappointed. Ren was just turning back to the conversation between Nora and Yang when he saw a blond guy sitting at a table and staring at Nikos, completely oblivious to the sauce running off the pasta on his fork and onto his hoodie.

“-fight her first,” Nora was finishing up.

“Well, we can’t just walk up to her and sock her. We gotta see if she’s interested first. But if she says yes then I’m gonna beat her first. I’ve been following her career in the mags and I’ve been waiting for a chance.” Yang said, a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve been in a couple of tourneys in Patch and they’ve all been super easy, no competition. I wanna see how much I can do in the big leagues. Anyway, nice talking to you two again.” And with that Yang was off, wandering toward another table.

Nora leaned in and whispered to Ren, “What do you think? Think I can take her?”

Ren considered the idea for a moment and then said, “She might be a better teammate.”

Nora’s mouth fell open and then she exclaimed with delight, “That’s it! We’re going to need a team of four anyways! You, me, Nikos, Yang! We’ll be the bees’ knees and we’ll smoke at the Vital Tournament.” Nora’s smile turned into a smirk, “Plus if she’s on our team then she’ll _have_ to spar with me. It’s the perfect plan.” All throughout dessert Nora chattered away with plans to ensure their team composition interspersed with speculation about how the teams would be chosen.

Ren and Nora separated after that as both went to their respective dorms to shower and change for bed. But they were able to meet up again when everyone was brought back to the big hall for the slumber party. Sleeping bags and pillows were handed out and a lively bit of social interaction began, at least until the lights were turned down.

Nora turned to Ren in the semi-darkness and whispered, “I’m so wired Ren, I can’t sleep. Can you calm me down?”  
Correctly reading his stony face, Nora quickly added, “Come on Ren, please. If I don’t get a full night of sleep then I won’t be at 100% tomorrow and then we might not get Yang and Nikos for our team, heck we might not even end up on a team together, and then we might get stuck on bad teams and then we’ll graduate after three years having done nothing and then—” Nora stopped as Ren touched her arm. The tension gradually left her as Ren worked his Semblance, draining Nora’s excitement.

“Thanks Ren, I needed that. See you in the morning.” With that Nora buried her head in her sleeping bed and was snoring peacefully in five minutes. Ren stayed up a bit longer, staring at the ceiling. His first day hadn’t been what he was expecting, but he finally felt that he was on track. Vengeance for his parents had never seemed closer. He turned his head and glanced over at the slumbering Nora. A tender smile lit his face as he slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. Why did Vale let Ironwood bring his toys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, author here. If you're reading this, then you, like me, like RWBY. But perhaps you, like me, feel that the last couple of volumes have been, shall we say, lackluster. I really liked the first three volumes of RWBY, but everything since then has been like the long, slow deflation of a hype balloon. Nothing has come close to the promise the show had at the end of volume 3.
> 
> I love analysis and critique and have already read/watched several attempts to "fix" RWBY. I had my own headcanon "fix", but I have no experience as an author or time to completely rewrite all of RWBY from the bottom up. That's where I came up with the idea for this series. It will be a bunch of short stories, showing events in this AU from the characters' perspectives. If it attracts enough attention maybe I'll do a full blown version, we'll see.

As Ozpin flicked off his monitor and sat back in his chair, a feeling of deep fatigue rolled over him. The call with the Vale Council had been exhausting. So many fears and suspicions to manage, so much ill will to paper over. Ozpin closed his eyes and sighed, letting his form go limp against his comfy chair. He contemplated whether it would be worth it to lose himself in meditation for what little time he had before James arrived, but decided against it. There were few things less satisfying than a rest cut short. Sighing, this time a little more out of self pity than from weariness, he opened his eyes.

They swept around the room. His room. His office. Stark and spartan, devoid of ornamentation. Not like Leo’s office in Haven, with all the clutter, books everywhere, documents scattered, a globe, a tea set, lamps. Nor like James’s office in Atlas, with its stately bookcases, rows of files, precisely ordered furniture, everything placed just so but still decorative, still grand, even the knickknacks in orderly lines. No, Ozpin’s office had none of those things. A desk, ergonomically proportioned for comfort. A rolling chair designed for the same. Two smaller, simple chairs for guests, both currently before the desk. A portable coffee pot on the desk, next to the built-in computer. Ozpin had once had bookshelves, years ago, but with the sum total of human knowledge just a few keystrokes away he had disposed of them. No knickknacks, no mementos, no photographs. More than one student, over the years, had asked him why he had so few personal possessions, and he was sure more would in the future.

The truth was that Ozpin had few possessions because he rarely felt possessive over anything. He had long ago expended his sentimentality on a thousand different items. Each lost or destroyed or stolen over the centuries and the passage from life to life. Once he had cared very deeply for things. Now he could rarely muster the effort. Even the cane he held now in his hand held no great attraction. It was a useful tool that he would discard and replace when its time had come. In truth, the only decoration in Ozpin’s office that affected him at all was the large clock built into it, or perhaps it was more apropos to say the clock his office was built into. Cogs and axles turned quietly overhead, moving the hands of the large clock whose face was the room’s sole window. On quiet days when there was no work pressing, Ozpin liked to stare out the window, listening to the rhythmic motion of the machinery. As the cogs moved and the hands spun, he could almost feel the passage of time, a rare thing for a man in his circumstance. Now though…

Ozpin looked out the window, not down to the city below but up to where the three Atlesian battlecruisers were silhouetted against the setting sun. He had watched James’s shuttle descend from the center of the airships out of the corner of his eye as he had argued with the Valesian Council that this was, in fact, not an Atlesian invasion but a friendly visit that he had arranged for but simply forgot to tell them about. He had not convinced them. He was sure of that. Out of respect for him they had agreed to merely lodge a formal protest, but he could sense their displeasure that he was covering for James.

It was not the first time James had caused Ozpin trouble and it almost certainly would not be the last. Ozpin liked James well enough. James was a loyal, dependable soldier, an energetic man who truly wanted what was best for everyone. He was also blunt and insensible to the feelings of others, a stubborn man who never saw a problem he could not solve with an iron fist. James was a man of action, not reflection. One day, Ozpin knew, his hot head would cool and he would gain the wisdom to see the bigger picture. Ozpin had seen his type before, many times. Knowing this did not make it any easier to deal with him.

As for why James had seen fit to bring a small fleet to Beacon to transport his cadre of students for this year’s Vital Festival, well Ozpin could speculate but it would be more informative to hear from the man himself. A soft, familiar knock at the door woke Ozpin from his reverie.

“Come in.” The polished mahogany door swung open and Glinda stepped in. She stopped, closing the door behind her, before walking up to Ozpin’s desk and standing there, apparently unsure where to begin. Ozpin noticed her compressed mouth and taut forehead, sure signs that her temper was up.

Deciding to forestall the storm as much as he could, Ozpin said, “Well I have some good news. The Council has decided not to take that,” he gestured out the window, “as a hostile act. They will be filing a complaint with the Atlesian ambassador but no harm has been done.”

Glinda’s eye twitched, “This time. What the hell is he thinking, bringing a battle fleet to Vale like that?”

“I do not know. I suspect he will provide an explanation when he arrives.” Ozpin glanced at his watch, “He should be here in a few minutes, I saw his shuttle moving off toward the landing platform.”

Glinda’s hands clenched. “I trust you won’t let him just get away with this. We’re talking about an international incident.”

Ozpin eyed Glinda coolly, “I will hear what he has to say. There may be factors we are unaware of that made this mode of transportation necessary.”

“Necessary! Last year he booked a flight on that luxury liner—what was it called?”

“Schneeross. And I understand your irritation. But what is done is done, there is no going back. James has brought a squadron to Beacon, so let us see why he did it and then we can decide our course of action.” Ozpin brought up his hands and folded them, resting his chin on them. Glinda looked like she would very much like to continue arguing the point, but instead she sat down in one of the open chairs and crossed her arms and legs. The silence hung in the air for a moment before Glinda spoke again.

“Has there been anything new? About what happened I mean. I just want to be up to date before James gets here.”

“Qrow sent me a report two hours ago. Still no sign of the Spring Maiden. It is looking more and more like she simply vanished.”

“People don’t simply vanish.”

“Not normally, no. I am inclined to believe that she had help, help from someone who is good at disappearing.”

Glinda looked interested, “Really? Who?”

“I want to wait for James. Suffice to say that our jobs may have just gotten significantly more complicated.”

A momentary pause and then Glinda asked, “And that… person? The one helping Torchwick, that used fire?”

“No sightings. My contacts in the Vale Police Force and the underground came up with nothing. To be fair they might not be the same people that attacked Amber.” Ozpin said.

“But the description matches—”

“The lack of description matches. Many people can wear masks and cloaks Glinda.”

Glinda’s face reddened slightly with the rebuke. Another pause and then she asked, “So you don’t think it’s _her_ , do you?”

Ozpin paused, contemplating his words. One problem with telling his lieutenants the truth (or part of it) was that it tended to color their worldview. Knowing that there actually was a boogeyman out there made it easy to blame all the world’s problems on them. Argent had seen the shadow of Salem in the Faunus Rebellion, Aurum had seen it in the Mistrylean general strike. Now Glinda…

“It is certainly possible. Many things are possible, however. She… she always tended to go for the more grand effect. I find it unusual to think that she would spend time aiding a sneak thief. It would be a bit of a step down for her. We need more evidence before we make hasty judgments.” The words came out bland but they seemed to have the desired effect. Glinda nodded, looking reassured.

A loud knock pierced the silence, a knock that oozed confidence and bravado to Ozpin. Straightening his glasses, he gave Glinda a mute appeal to be nice before saying, “Come in general.”

James Ironwood walked confidently into the office. Ozpin was struck, as he often was during his interactions with James, with both how tall the man was and how young he looked. A general, The General, of the Atlesian military at age 47, James was the youngest man to ever hold that post. The six years since had passed without leaving much of an impact. Or perhaps that was because so much of James was not a man anymore, so much was unaging steel.

James walked up to Ozpin’s desk and took the offered hand. Ozpin could feel the minute action of the microactuators that moved the cold steel under James’s glove. James snuck a glance at Glinda, obviously curious at her glare. “Good to see you Oz, it’s been too long. And you too Glinda, definitely been too long since we last met. I’ve got some interesting news you’ll want to—”

“Before we get to that,” interrupted Glinda, “Perhaps you could explain what the hell you were thinking?” At James’s confused expression Glinda elaborated, “What you were thinking bringing a battle group to Vale?”

James’s voice was calm and level, “That’s not a battle group. A battle group would have a carrier in it, not to mention more support ships. That is an escort squadron.”

Glinda’s voice was not so level. “Fine, whatever it is. What made you think it was a good idea?”

James looked confused again, “Because I had something I had to make sure was safe. Why wouldn’t I do everything I could?”

“Because,” interjected Ozpin, “I have had to spend most of the day with the Vale Council to convince them not to challenge your ‘escort group’. They wanted to scramble an interception.”

James looked taken aback, “What? Why?”

Glinda laughed, an ugly, incredulous laugh, “Well let’s think James. What happened the last time Atlesian troops were in Vale?”

James flinched. “That was eighty years ago. Most of the people alive today weren’t born then.”

“People have long memories,” Ozpin said, “particularly for traumatic events. The present tensions are not helping matters either.”

James sighed, dropping into his chair. It creaked under his weight. “We’re complying with every statute of the treaty. You know that Ozpin.”

“I do. But the treaty was signed eighty years ago. Lighter than air craft were in their infancy and no one could have predicted how computers would change the world. Just because the treaty is silent on the matter of robotic soldiers is little reason to produce tens of thousands of them.”

A frown creased James’s face, “Those Knights are for our defense. We have no designs on any of our neighbors.”

Ozpin sighed, ignoring Glinda’s raised eyebrow. “Yes, I know James, I really do. But others in Vale are not so knowledgeable about the inner workings of Atlesian policy. All they see is the great enemy that everyone worked so hard to defeat rearming with new and terrifying weaponry while all the while claiming that they are abiding by the peace treaty. The mere existence of such weapons invites speculation as to their purpose.”

James smacked his fist into his palm, the sound of metal hitting bone ringing out. “Their purpose is to fight the Grim. Like Vale should be doing. If they had our technology they could have avoided that disaster at Mountain Glen.”

“Well, your technology is certainly pushing them forward. The defense budget for next year is set to be almost triple what it was five years ago and they are upgrading and overhauling all our defensive systems. I think we can let the matter rest there. You said you had news?”

With a visible effort James pulled himself back on track. “News. Ah, yes. The Device is ready.”

Ozpin straightened in his chair. “I was under the impression that it was going to take much longer.”

James shrugged, “Pietro said he had made a breakthrough. He’s doing more work and tests back in Atlas but I brought the prototype here with me. I can have it in the vault and operational in 48 hours.”

Ozpin glanced at Glinda who returned it, looking concerned. Ozpin addressed James, “That is excellent news.”

Reading the room, James’s expression soured, “But…?”

“No buts. Once I have selected and vetted the appropriate candidate and they have consented to the operation we will be ready to carry it out.”

James looked at Ozpin for a few seconds before hesitantly saying, “What about the project you and I discussed. I know that you declined at the time, but now that we’re ready…”

Ozpin eyed him. “James I know how hard you have worked on this. And I appreciate the advantages you highlighted. But entrusting the powers of a Maiden to anything that cannot think for itself… is dangerous.”

James bristled, “She can think for herself. She is fully capable of autonomous decision making!”

Glinda rolled her eyes, “But you can override it if it gets out of line.”

“Of course I can! It will be totally safe!” James seemed to grasp the meaning of the question an instant too late as the words left his mouth. He stood stock still for a moment, looking furious with himself. Ozpin took the opportunity to cut in.

“If you can exercise remote control over it then there is the potential for it to be compromised. That is not a problem with a human candidate,” said Ozpin.

James stood there for a moment before saying, “Humans are fallible too. Look at what happened to the Spring Maiden. She ran.”

Ozpin sighed. “Yes she did. But she was chosen by the powers themselves. Not by me. Can you trust me James? Trust that I will choose a candidate of character?”

James eyed Ozpin. “Who did you have in mind.”

Glinda cut in, “Pyrrha Nikos.”

James considered. Then he said, “Alright, Ozpin. We’ll see what Miss Nikos says. But I won’t give up on my plan. It’s good to have a backup.”

“Very well James. Now I have some news from Qrow that I would like to share with you and Glinda. He has failed to find the Spring Maiden,” Ozpin said.

“Honestly it’s not a surprise,” cut in Glinda, “I think you rely on him too much Ozpin.”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. “Qrow is a trustworthy agent.”

“He’s a drunk.”

“He’s a trustworthy drunk.”

James laughed at this. Both Ozpin and Glinda turned to him. He smiled before saying, “Come on Glinda, you cannot deny Qrow’s skill. If he failed to find the Spring Maiden I guess that means she can’t be found.”

“Or,” said Ozpin thoughtfully, “she is with someone else who cannot be found. Someone with skills to match Qrow’s…”

James looked puzzled. “Who?”

Ozpin sighed. “I have had my suspicions for a while now, but if we look at the area where Vernal disappeared… well there is only one place she could have found refuge. With the Branwen tribe.”

Glinda started. “Wait… Do you mean Raven?” She looked both concerned and alarmed.

“Yes,” Ozpin said, his tone heavy. “For the last seventeen years the Branwen tribe has operated with impunity, dodging all attempts to apprehend them. I happen to know that the previous leader died around this time. Matching the timeline up makes it pretty clear, Raven must have taken control of the tribe. And she knows all about the Maidens and how powerful they are. She would know the value of having one nearby.”

“So,” James cut in, “so you think that she picked up the Spring Maiden and has been sheltering her. Well, I guess that’s better than thinking Salem’s gotten to her. Though I suppose she still might have.”

Ozpin shook his head. “If Salem had gotten to Vernal then she would not have run away when Qrow arrived on the scene of Amber’s attack. She would have stood her ground and tried to kill him. Assuming, of course, that Amber’s attacker was Salem, which I am not convinced of.”

James frowned, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Have you told Qrow this? Does he know that his quarry is likely hiding with his sister?”

Now it was Ozpin’s turn to frown, unsure of what James was getting at. “Not yet. I only just put the dots together with his latest dispatch. Why? I assure you that Qrow is quite professional. He will not hesitate to act just because she is his sister.”

“Regardless,” said James thoughtfully, “he could probably use some help. Maybe I should send Specialist Schnee to assist him.”

Glinda looked startled, “I thought she was in Atlas tending to Freya.”

James waved away the comment, “Freya’s health is not so frail that she’s going to die soon. Winter is one of my best operatives and I’m sure she can be of great assistance to Qrow. Shall I send her?” He looked at Ozpin.

Ozpin sat silent for a moment, looking at James. There it was again, the need, the urge, to do something, to act. Schnee would likely be of little assistance to Qrow, not only because her training was ill-suited to information gathering but also because her temperament and his would inevitably clash. She was too proper and militant, he too relaxed and impertinent. On the other hand, it would probably be a good learning experience for Schnee, who needed all the experience she could get if she were to become the Winter Maiden. And it would let James vent some of his pent-up energy.

“Very well, James, you may send Schnee to meet Qrow. I will send you his coordinates.” James nodded appreciatively. “In the meanwhile, why not get your students settled down in their temporary dorms? We all have a rather full day of planning ahead of us for the tournament.”

Recognizing the dismissal, James turned to go. Glinda looked at Ozpin for a moment before moving out behind him. Ozpin poured himself a cup of coffee and laid back in his chair, thinking back over the conversation. James had not explained why he had brought the battlecruisers. Doubtless he needed a transport to move the Device, but that could have been accomplished with a small transport, not three battlecruisers. So why had he felt the need?

Ozpin knew. It seemed that the attack on Amber had rattled James, shaken him to his core. So he retreated behind his tin toys, finding comfort in firepower. But James had failed to account for how his nervousness would appear to others. If James Ironwood, general of Atlas, headmaster of the Atlas Academy felt the need to bring an army with him to a simple tournament, well, what exactly was it he was expecting to fight?


End file.
